


Guardian

by TeelLilies



Series: When the Stars Align [1]
Category: Warframe
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Gen, Major sacrifice spoilers, Mentions of Death, Umbra is doing his best, Warframe - Freeform, being a space mercenary is hard when you're literally like 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 11:26:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17548802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeelLilies/pseuds/TeelLilies
Summary: Everyone has their moments, but they don't always have to take them alone.





	Guardian

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've ever written for Warframe but????? I've got so many emotions after The Sacrifice, I would die for Umbra and... I just want to hug him honestly. I want him to be able to chill around the liset and recover and relax is that so much to ask. 
> 
> Anyways I'm emotional and I want to hug both my operator and umbra so have this?

The orbiter was eerily quiet compared to the howls of corpus soldiers, engineers as they dropped to the ground. the Operator found theirself trying to shake off the creeping miasma of wondering what those men had to go back to, what they’d ripped lives away from. They were bad, a money cult that needed to be cut down a bit. Dismissing the cries of pain and shrieks of metal against metal had become harder and harder to do recently. Once it had been easy, with the reassurance of the Lotus at their back, guiding their hands, assuring them that what they were doing was right…

But after what they’d seen, after seeing Lotus for only the second time. And for the first time really seeing her, the Operator… wasn’t sure how to think about the situation.

Hunting Umbra around the stars had started as a way to find Lotus, to fill the empty void that had been left behind when they watched the only adult that had ever protected her, guided her, being led away by some orokin creep. Only for the Lotus to walk away from them entirely, showing her true colors and saving the life of the monster that had warped Umbra into a damaged, broken frame. 

They’d let him be once they’d both returned to her orbiter. He was still shaky, unstable, and still… Showed signs of being alive. Sure their other frames weren’t just machines. There was something there to connect to, some idle motion when they were left without her. But Umbra was different, he seemed to function entirely on his own, had his own motivations. His own pains. So they didn’t put him in storage, they returned to their orbiter, shaken, betrayed, after watching the Lotus leave them, and they let him have run of the ship. He seemed to appreciate it but remained mostly holed up in their quarters, watching the stars slip by as Ordis wove the orbiter slowly about any enemy ships that could pose a threat to them. 

He was quiet, didn’t seem to do much, hell sometimes they could swear he didn’t move at all. But he breathed, unlike other frames he had proper body heat, not the soft whirr and click of some of her frames. Of course, after their encounters with Ballas’ recordings they knew the frames were, so much more than just shells. Yet Umbra was the only one who’d retained any real ability to move about on their own. 

the Operator had given him space though, they had managed to calm him from a blind, raging beast that had ravaged several installations of Grineer and Corpus, to something closer to a person. 

Yet, even with another person roaming about. (They supposed Umbra was another person, though they wasn’t sure if he remembered much more than the day he killed Isaah) The orbiter still felt empty. Their scanner was silent, it had been off for as long as they could remember being on board their ship, they couldn’t listen to the radio, sometimes it made them feel sick. 

the Operator ached, even just stepping out of an endlessly durable frame, they hurt. A deep permeating ache that seemed to have settled into their very bones. They needed to lay down, properly lay down. And even if the bench in their personal quarters was thin, they weren’t complaining. Even if the space was also haunted by a breathing shadow. They just needed a minute. 

The door opened smoothly with its usual whirring, and the Operator could swear they saw a slight turn of Umbra’s head towards the door, alert. They stayed quiet though, moving past the helm they’d placed in their ship as a token, past the sprawling display of the plains that Ordis had so generously provided to them, and instead moved to flop across the slim couch. It was just wide enough that they could fit all of themself on it, granted if they were to lay on their side it would likely be more comfortable. 

From the corner of her eye they watched Umbra’s head turn back, watched him shift slightly where he sat, cross-legged in front of the window. the Operator had noticed right away that Umbra didn’t seem… comfortable moving about. It made sense, they didn’t think they’d be comfortable in their own skin either if they’d been through what he had. 

They didn’t let their gaze linger long though, turning their eyes instead to the ceiling, and trying to focus on something other than the drawn out silence. The quiet of the orbiter was going to drive them insane. They needed something to fill the gaps, to keep their mind off of less pleasant things, off of the leering face of a grineer manic shoving them to the floor, the howling shriek of Corpus machines rattling off of vent walls, making their hair stand on end. And mostly the other things, seeing bodies crumple under the blows of heavy swords, or seeing forms pinned to walls by sharp projectiles. 

the Operator bit back a groan as they lifted her hands to rub over their face, hoping the pressure of the heels of their hands against her eyes would dismiss the images that threatened to upset them for hours on end. 

They’d grown to hate being in their orbiter. It was too quiet, even with Ordis piping up with the occasional comment. And on top of that, with the appearance of… specters of sorts, reflections of them that weren’t them, it didn’t even feel safe any more. 

The room had fallen quiet save for the ambient hum of the ship’s systems. And still the Operator didn’t hear Umbra move. 

They did however, feel the dip of cushions above their head as he sat next to them. As much as they trusted the other frame, knew he wouldn’t raise a finger against them, they still cracked an eye open, looked up at the dark figure from between her fingers. His eyes didn’t seem to be on them, he sat stiffly, still looking out the window. And yet he had very pointedly put himself in their space. It made the Operator pause, blink at him for a moment, before casting their arms over their face properly and deciding to ignore it. They was sure he had some reason to be there, but wasn’t going to ask questions of the old Dax. 

It was the gentle touch of a hand against their arm that made them startle. The touch was, wary, like Umbra expected to be swatted away. But the Operator simply lagged for a moment, before peering up at the warframe again from behind their arms. He still didn’t look at them, but strong fingers curled partially around their forearm, giving it a slight squeeze. 

The gesture was small, insignificant… but dammit if it didn’t stun the Operator entirely. They looked down at the hand on their arm, the deep grey of whatever material coated Umbra’s body. Even without words, without the frame even looking at them, they could understand the gesture. He was reaching out to them, reminding them they weren’t alone, just like they’d done for him. 

“Thanks…” They spoke up quietly, barely loud enough to hear as they lifted their other hand, daring to rest it atop the warframe’s. That actually earned them a look, and a small nod, before Umbra turned back towards the window, leaving his hand on their arm. 

It was strange, but comfortable in a way. It was more companionship than they’d had in a long time… And the first companionship they could remember where they could let themself relax. And that they did, just focusing on the warm contact. Though, after a little bit of prolonged silence their mind began to wander again. To the memories they’d seen through Umbra’s eyes, to the time spent tracking him across the system, getting beaten down by this feral frame that now sat next to them peacefully. 

They were glad they’d followed him, given him a bit of peace. At first they were just glad because it meant they were helping him. But now with the frame sitting beside them quietly, they were grateful for a whole new reason. 

Maybe Umbra had been twisted into some… tired, broken old soldier by the Orokin, but there was still a shred of humanity there. Something coiled deep within him that Ballas had managed to miss. It made the Operator’s chest ache, thinking about everything Umbra had been through, thinking about the recordings of Ballas they’d heard, detailing the horrible things done to make warframes. But they could at least hope that he’d begun to heal. For one, he had let them in, had allowed them to ease that one painful memory at least enough to calm him down. So there was a start.

There was one thing they did have in common though, no matter what they’d each been through, they both didn’t have families. the Operator had been thinking about that in passing recently. They both had virtually no-one. 

Well, they’d had Lotus, only for their mother figure to turn around and betray them like they were worth nothing. 

the Operator tried to push the memory from their head, tried to forget the blast of sentient energy aimed right at them that they’d been swept out of by the frame sitting with them. 

They couldn’t shake it though, it was embedded in their memory, a stinging reminder of what they’d lost, of what they may never have had in the first place. It was one of the things that had them questioning what they were doing. If the Lotus had so willingly betrayed them then were they being manipulated all along? Had they been doing the will of any old sentient? Had Lotus and Hunhow been working together the entire time? 

The thoughts reeled across their mind, and they hadn’t realized that tears had welled up in their eyes until they felt the gentle sweep of a thumb under their eye, brushing a tear away. 

It snapped them back to reality and they sat up as they choked down a sniffle, turning their back to the frame beside them momentarily. 

They couldn’t cry, they were stronger than that, they were more than just some kid. They were a tenno, a warrior. The Operator tried to remind theirself as they hugged their knees and forced herself to breathe evenly, trying to will away the sting of tears in their eyes. They were better than crying, they knew that much.

But they just couldn’t shake the hollow feeling of abandonment, of having nobody. Even the woman they’d considered a mother figure had turned on them, and there was a possibility that she’d been manipulating the Tenno all along. 

the Operator buried their face in their knees, trying to quell the urge to dissolve into incoherent tears. They had kept a good rein on theirself, had refused to get upset for Ordis’ sake, for the sake of the system. They had things to do, they had responsibilities. They couldn’t be some sniveling child, they had to be strong.

It was the hand on their back that made them choke back a sob, they didn’t need the reassurance, they really didn’t. But they couldn’t remember the last time someone had reached out to them in a moment of vulnerability. Even the silent presence of Umbra sitting close behind them, made them want to cry even more. Just him being there was starting to destroy their resolve. 

Something about it, about the fact that he was there, quiet and somehow comforting in his small gestures, something weakened their will to force the tears down. 

Somehow they found themself turning, unfolding from the ball they’d curled themself in. Umbra didn’t waver, just dropped his hand to the couch as the Operator eyed him through their tears. 

“Why? Why does the universe take everything from us?” They didn’t even think about what they was saying, the words just tumbled out, choked with the lump in their throat. The figure in front of them just offered a small shrug. Unsure, but still watching them quietly. 

the Operator tried to draw a deep breath, to steady themself, but their breath caught, breaking in a half-sob. 

What happened next startled them.

Umbra shifted, in hindsight it was rather slow, but it felt sudden. the Operator was quickly wrapped up in a strong pair of arms, pulled against a solid chest. It took a moment for them to process that they had been so easily wrapped up in a hug by the frame. But when they did they felt themself crumble. 

Their hands came up to grip at the cloth Umbra had draped himself in as they shook with a broken sob. The arms around them tightened, like the frame could hold them together just by squeezing them tightly enough. It was insanely comforting, and it had them completely falling apart in the frame’s arms. 

They couldn’t remember their father, but the way Umbra held them, the way a hand fell against their hair, they felt like they were being held like their father. By someone who actually cared about them, who didn’t want to see them hurting. 

And they were hurting. It was hard to admit, but as they shook and cried into the frame’s hard shoulder they had to admit it to themself. They felt betrayed, alone, like they had nobody in the universe except a buggy cephalon with memory loss. (Not that they didn’t appreciate Ordis immensely of course, he just… wasn’t always the most comforting presence)

A warm hand smoothed down over their hair, rubbing over their shoulders. Something about it only made them cry harder. They didn’t know why, but having someone to cling to seemed to make them all the more unstable. 

He just held them quietly, letting them soak his scarf in tears, letting their sobs run their course. 

the Operator wasn’t sure how long they cried. They had so much to cry about. They cried for their lost family, for what had been done to Umbra, for the betrayal they’d endured at the hands of the Lotus, for the loss of Isaah’s young life, for god knows how many other Dax were tortured by the Orokin. For Ordis’ bloody past, for the lives that had been taken at their hands. 

Eventually heavy sobs started to dwindle to soft sniffles and choked breaths, punctuated by soft pats against their back, reassurance for the frame still holding them tightly. 

“Thank you…” They mumbled into the fabric of the frame’s scarf, trying to gather the will to pull away. They didn’t want to. Being held was unfamiliar but really nice. It made them miss any semblance of a normal life that they could have once had. What would their life have been like if they were born on Cetus? Perhaps tormented by the threat of teralysts every night but maybe they could have… had a childhood, a life. They wouldn’t be at the mercy of some sentient that had brainwashed them into believing they were cared about. 

Though, maybe they were cared about. It wasn’t like they could say nobody cared when they was still resting against the frame they’d tracked across the system.

It was hard to wrap their head around, that they’d found someone that actually seemed to care, a frame that even after only knowing them for a day or two, most of that time spent fleeing them, had dragged them out of harm’s way once already. And that wasn’t even mentioning him letting them cry on him. 

All they got for their thanks was a small shrug and gentle pat on the back, reassuring once more. Umbra gave them a squeeze, and the Operator was sure they understood what he was trying to say. 

‘We may have both lost everyone, but we have each other now.’

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so?? that's the thing thanks for reading, I always love feedback so go ahead and drop a comment if you'd like! I always love hearing from people, especially if you want me to write any more warframe stuff in the future because honestly? I'm not sure what else to write for this community haha


End file.
